The Darkling Woods
by Kalia of Camelot
Summary: Written for the Merlin Secret Santa. Prompt: "perdarker!Merlin. Merlin is Emrys and Emrys fights for the cause of all magic-users. Necessarily, he crosses paths with the crown prince of Camelot. How that ends is up to you, but please no major character death." Merthur


_**Prompt: "perdarker!Merlin. Merlin is Emrys and Emrys fights for the cause of all magic-users. Necessarily, he crosses paths with the crown prince of Camelot. How that ends is up to you, but please no major character death."**_

 _ **This was written for the Merlin Secret Santa. I have never written a dark!Merlin fic before and am not well acquainted with the genre but I did my best so I hope you enjoy it! It has been a few years since I wrote fanfics so this was very fun if a little challenging!**_

Emrys was a myth, but Arthur knew all too well that myths were born of fact.

A wizard, a warlock, a sorcerer – these were the terms that flew through villages on the whispers of suspicious and fearful peasants. But the truth was that no one knew for sure _what_ he was. All they knew was his name, a name seemingly steeped with sorcery and evil and danger.

Emrys was a myth, but that didn't stop him from defending his people.

Like a prince of the forest, this man held great power and fiercely protected that which he loved. Any magic-users discovered in Camelot would be reported to the prince, but not for ages had one been executed in the proper fashion. No burning, no drowning, no beheading – the criminals would all disappear from their cells before their punishments could be carried out. Guards would be discovered unconscious the next morning, with no memory of being attacked. And every time a sorcerer escaped, the lines on King Uther's face became a little more pronounced and the bags under his eyes seemed to sag ever deeper, until eventually the burden of dealing with sorcery was left to his only son, Arthur.

Arthur, too, had heard the rumours of the sorcerer hiding in the Darkling woods, the saviour of criminals who practised magic. But whilst he outwardly grimaced every time a prisoner escaped, he did nothing to increase security. If Arthur felt any relief when a frail peasant woman or a wide-eyed youth were liberated before they could be killed, he made sure not to let it show. According to Uther, something had to be done to restore the true balance – to once again suppress magic and this "Emrys" and return a sense of security to the kingdom.

It was decided that the threat must be dealt with, and so Arthur found himself riding out of the castle in the direction of the Darkling woods, seeking a man he wasn't entirely sure existed, followed by a trail of his most trusted knights. The clattering of hooves against the cobblestones disturbed the still morning air: only the gentlest breeze whispered around the party as they set off on their mission.

Hours passed. Arthur's men were normally a chatty bunch, full of jokes and japes to pass the time. Today, however, the uncertainty of their impending encounter stretched a silence between them. Even Arthur felt unsure: it was only rumour and hearsay that led them to the woods - he could only imagine what they might find there. The knights were suspicious and fearful, their distrust of magic keeping them from settling into their usual conversation. Arthur was thoughtful, nervous, not sure how he would begin to deal with a threat like Emrys – or if he even wanted to.

As dusk began to settle, they arrived at the edge of the woods. The shadowy trees seemed to murmur as the men set up a camp for the night. Securing his horse to a tree, Arthur glanced towards the forest and felt a jolt of shock run through him. Were those eyes staring back at him from between the trees? Were those lights, or luminous, golden eyes? A crow shrieked nearby and Arthur almost jumped in shock – when he looked back towards the trees, the lights were gone.

Dinner passed with minimal conversation, each man feeling an inexplicable dread at their mission. Bandits and beasts were easy to deal with, but sorcerers, wizards, magicians...Magic was evil, magic was wrong and twisted and cruel and couldn't be dealt with like any other adversary. The executions of magic-users kept the people placated and happy, and this recent disturbance had unsettled everyone. Uncomfortable on his bedroll next to the dying fire, the Arthur watched the sparks dance until his eyelids grew heavy and he slowly dropped off to sleep.

When Arthur awoke, he startled to find that he was no longer in the camp where he had fallen asleep, but was lying on what felt like soft moss. He opened his eyes, and in the moonlight he discovered that he was on the ground in front of what looked like a seat of white marble in the middle of a clearing. On the seat was a man, a man whose luminous eyes stared out from underneath his jet black hair.

"So the prince awakens", said the man.

Arthur sat up, breathing hard, but found himself physically unable to stand. No matter how hard he tried, his legs simply wouldn't comply. The prince's blue eyes widened as he stared up at the myth come to life who clearly had total control.

"I am Emrys," continued the man, and Arthur felt his chest constrict in fear as he desperately tried to calculate an escape.

"I can sense your fear, prince", he said, but rather than mocking, the man's tone sounded almost...gentle. When he continued, his voice was quiet but still audible in the quiet of the night.

"You need not be afraid - I will not harm you unless I feel it is necessary."

 _'_ _Wonderful',_ thought Arthur, ' _That's reassuring.'_

The pale man's lips quirked as though he had heard Arthur's thoughts, then he continued.

"I am Emrys, a warlock born with magic. I did not learn it; it is a fundamental part of my being, of my soul. Let me be clear: you have sought me out, but it is I who decides what happens next. Your safety depends entirely on your actions."

Arthur tried to level out his breathing but the knowledge that he was at the mercy of such a powerful sorcerer was making his heart drum incessantly against his ribcage. Because his elevated heartbeat had nothing to do with the way the moonlight shone in the mysterious man's clear blue eyes.

"I am in tune with nature", Emrys continued. "When sunlight fills the groves, I feel the spirit of the Earth sing to me. But I also hear the screams of the innocents put to death by your kingdom. I intervene in your affairs to save those who have been wronged. I can only take your presence here as an attempt at retribution."

Arthur felt trapped in Emrys' cool stare, and he found himself unable to look away.

"So," whispered Emrys, "What am I to do with you?"

Arthur swallowed, looking up at the mystical man whose flawless skin seemed to glow in the moonlight. Summoning all of his courage, he stared at Emrys with his steeliest glare.

"It is my duty to eliminate any danger to society," he said, hoping against hope that he wasn't signing his own death warrant. "I carry out my father's laws because I am trying to protect my people, people who rely on me".

"So am I", said Emrys, only now there was a hint of menace in his gaze and a growl in his voice. "I look after my own. I, too, have responsibilities. But not all magic is evil, prince. Magic is everything."

And now, all threat was once again gone from his voice, replaced instead with a sort of child-like wonder.

"Magic, Arthur, is a weapon like any other. It can be used for good or for evil". Arthur had barely registered the warlock's use of his name, too distracted by the man's words which rang true with what he had secretly felt in his heart for so long. Arthur had always respected his father, but as he matured it had become clear to him that the persecution of those with magic was some kind of deranged attempt to avenge his wife's death. Arthur had seen too many people sentenced to death over rumours and gossip, standing on the sidelines for so many years but unable to intervene.

Arthur's thoughts were interrupted by Emrys' voice,

"Do you not disagree, prince?" said Emrys, a questioning eyebrow elegantly raised. "Or have you had a change of heart?"

Arthur took a deep breath.

"I have often been troubled by the deaths of citizens whose guilt did not strike me as certain," he said, and his traitorous heart certainly did not speed up at the sight of Emrys' clear surprise. The warlock considered the prince for a moment, and then his eyes flashed gold. The feeling rushed back into Arthur's legs and he gasped in relief as he struggled to his feet. Emrys also stood up, and stepped carefully towards Arthur.

"So you do not believe in your father's blind hatred," the warlock whispered, approaching silently to stare up into Arthur's face. "And yet you still imprison magic users?"

"Well, yes", said Arthur, unable to look away from those bright blue eyes, "But since I took over we've had an unfortunate lack of executions. Some warlock seems to be setting them all free."

A slow grin spread over Emrys' thin features as he closed the last steps between them. "How unfortunate for you," he murmured, staring up at Arthur from underneath his dark lashes. Unable to resist, Arthur brought up his right hand to cup the warlock's face. Emrys stiffened, and for a moment Arthur feared he had ruined it all, but then a dark grin spread across his face and Arthur remembered why he should fear this man. His thoughts raced as he tried to collect himself, but suddenly all thoughts were silenced as Emrys reached up to capture Arthur's mouth with his own.

The kiss was powerful, heady, sweet, utterly intoxicating and Arthur needed more. All thoughts of politics forgotten, he brought up his other hand to grasp the back of the warlock's head. The sensation of running his fingers through that inky-black hair whilst Emrys fought for dominance in the kiss was almost too much and Arthur broke away, gasping for breath, only to find himself once more ensnared in the warlock's kiss, limbs entangled, fingers clutching and clawing. He could feel Emrys smile into the kiss, and even when the warlock's voice rang through his head, their lips didn't part.

" _I think we shall be able to work out a mutually beneficial agreement, don't you_?"

Arthur could practically hear the smirk even as the warlock projected his thoughts into the prince's head. To show his agreement, Arthur allowed his hands to wander further down, skating over Emrys' defined chest before sneaking around his back to pull him closer. This was dangerous, he knew. This was also the single most intoxicating moment of his life, and Arthur knew he would never regret his actions when he felt Emrys begin to fiddle with the laces of his breeches.

In the mossy, moonlit clearing, the warlock and the prince worked out their agreement, and if a few clothes were lost here or there, no one would mention it. The gasps and moans that filled the air were lost in the trees of the Darkling woods.


End file.
